


Mysteries of the sea

by Floofy



Category: Cookie Run (Video Game), Cookie Run Ovenbreak (Video Game)
Genre: Almost Drowning, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Blood and Injury, Drowning, Explicit Language, He treats his own wounds I think that counts, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mer AU, Near Death Experiences, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Depression, Salt swears like a sailor ofc, Swearing, its MY fic i get to choose salts personality, trigger warning - drowning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22383376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floofy/pseuds/Floofy
Summary: A slowburn Mer au fic mainly focussing on the relationship between Salt and the mysterious creature following him in the depths below.Follow his journey across the sea towards his goal as he meets new faces and mysterious creatures.-Salt jumps again as something heavily smacks against the window just to his right. He forces his breathing to even out, annoyed he was even jumping at the sounds in the first place. The combination of just waking up in the pure dark mixed with the fear of the unknown flared up his anxiety tenfold.Clack Clack Clack ClackSomething was tapping on the window.-(Currently not finished and still in it's first draft state)
Relationships: Pirate Cookie/Salt Cookie (Cookie Run)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 20





	1. Day One.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said in the summary this is a first draft so if theres like...fluctuations in quality or things go past too quickly blame past me for my bad writing/ wanting to get the good bits out fast :') Ill prolly go back over older parts when it's all done but for now just take what I have.
> 
> I'll upload chapters as like.... story cut off parts where I think it'll be best to read up to so some chapters will be a lot shorter than others; sometimes chapters will be just the days events and others will be "cliff hanger" cuts so 
> 
> yeah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I re-wrote some things that i didnt like! I like the feel of this a lot more now...
> 
> Again the fic as a whole is still not finished, is a wip and also a first draft, will prolly go back over the entire thing when it's all finished tho.
> 
> And please if you have anything to say, legit anything at all, please comment! I wanna know what y'all think....

Salt hated waiting.

Salt especially hated waiting when it came to sea travelling; always wishing to be at his destination already so he could just get down to what he was really good at...The only thing he was really good at.

Because of his impatience he tries to keep his hands busy at all times lest he become old and restless but his friends like to remind him that he’s already one of the two. He’d grumble and groan at the jab but they were right; he was getting on in his years and spending so many of those said years out at sea definitely hadn’t been kind to his poor body. 

The scars he had littered him from head to toe with the most visible being on his forearms; the dark history behind them locked away in his brain. The smaller variants however that scattered his crackeds hands he would tell you were the least painful but acquired from the stupidest of predicaments; perhaps a stray fishing hook nicking into his skin when casting or even a nasty bastard of a fish thought it was tougher than it looked and decided it wanted to wrestle for ownership of his finger.

He could handle the scars of course...the cracked skin… the calluses on his palms...none of it really bothered him anymore and of course it wouldn’t; it wasn’t like he had anyone to look good for anyway.

At least he always had some neat little story to tell curious children when they pointed out one or two of the faint lines across his palms. Being in such a small inconspicuous town in the state he was was the only reason the curious eyes and nosy snouts even noticed him but he didn’t mind it so long as they were respectful. 

Some of the children he told bore excitement on their faces at learning of the marks origin and the novelty of some old fisherman's tale. He’d smile along with them as he spoke and make grand gestures with his arms. Other’s however would wince, shriek or even be concerned for him after his story and he’d pat their back in comfort; face soft and reassuring as he explained to them it didn’t hurt anymore and if they’d like to they could even touch the scar just to make sure!

The town children never judged him on his looks or the scars he wore, their minds only endlessly curious and excited about what he did and why (“What’s it like out on the open seas Mr?!” “Are there any interesting fish you can tell me about today?!” “Tell Jimmy about that one catch that almost took off your thumb!”).

For them he was eternally thankful. 

If only he could find people his age who were just as accepting.

\----

The day before he was to set sail had been almost exhausting but it was well worth it to get all his supplies ready beforehand. The boxes had been hauled to and from his little apartment in town down to the docks almost all day, some neighbours having opted in to help him with the task making the trips quicker and less tedious but their constant questions weighed down on his mind and made him antsy; he could only answer so many before requesting silence or thanking the person for their assistance and watching them walk on their merry way. He liked to keep his life and goings on private to many of the towns folks' disappointment so every time they tried to pry he only felt discomfort.

What only he would call his second home floated in wait in the waters below the town with the view from his bedroom cast out to sea giving him a constant eye on it. Many other boats were littered alongside it however but none were really used in such a way nor treasured as badly by their owners like his was...

Setting eyes on his little Sugar Crystal always brought a smile to his face and set his mind at ease. The two of them had been through thick and thin together and Salt always knew he could trust the little boat to get him to where he needed to be, no matter the weather. Yes she may be small, old, broke down every other month and couldn’t really hold more than one fish load but he honestly wouldn’t want to traverse any other way.

Many of the other boat owners and fishermen in the neighbouring towns would always question why he didn’t just sell Crystal, upsize and have less to worry about but he simply told them he didn’t see a reason to. 

He knew how to repair her, what all her quirks were and how to operate her with his eyes closed, where all the little secret compartments were in her cabin and how far he could push the little boat before she gave way. She’d saved his life more times than he could count and held a special place in his heart no other boat could fulfill. 

With that of course he could only wonder: _Why would he ever want to get rid of something so special?_

When all was ready, with a pat to the boat’s side, Salt hopped aboard. Years of practice helped him to easily vault over the edge and onto the wooden deck and whilst sure he could carefully climb his way into the boat and not risk injury but he was  _ restless  _ and he wanted to be out at sea  _ yesterday _ . The only reason he hadn’t done so was because of the storm that had ravaged on overnight, ruining his plans. This morning when everything was bright he’d checked the news thankfull on the reports promising no more storms for the next couple of weeks and so with that Salt had made his way down to the dock ready to set sail, trusting of the report and hopping it wouldn’t fuck him over in the future.

Most of the boxes he’d moved the other day were situated in the little cabin in the bottom of Crystals hold. Food and canned goods were the majority of the load but he’d also packed in blankets and clothing items he found he favoured for his trips overseas. An old, handmade blanket had been a necessity on every trip he’d taken since his youth. He wouldn’t admit it helped him sleep better at night like some kind of lucky charm but well… it was the truth! It smelt like what little fleeting childhood he could remember, even if that did sound incredibly corny. Said blanket was currently laid out over the cozy bed down below. The other half of the boxes he’d brought along sat out on the deck around him, a few portable freezers were amongst the lot and were filled to the brim with water and ice cubes ready and waiting to hold any good catches he made down the line. He’d always bring back whatever he caught, good or bad, but he was really hoping for something  _ grand _ this time.

It’d take a few days to reach his destination but by the almighty Kingfish would it be worth it.

Salt hadn’t told anyone about his secret fishing spot and if anyone ever wanted to know it they’d have to pry it from his cold dead hands because it really was just that special to him. The area was at most a week off from the land and at least only a few days if the winds were kind but in reality Salt would sail as long as it took if it only meant he could return to it one last time.

He thinks about the location idly as he pulls the rope off of the post holding Crystal in place to the dock and lets it fall to the floor in a lump near his feet. The jagged rocks that encircle the pool area were his favourite; their placement looking almost deliberate or man-made. The coral and sea shells that could be found dancing just below the water’s surface were a treat to behold and attracted snails, clownfish, crabs- too many adorable little creatures to count that he couldn’t wait to set his eyes on.

Scooting around all the holding boxes and being careful not to trip on the hatch door to down below deck brings him to the wheel of the boat and his hands begin to work on autopilot to bring his Sugar Crystal to life. 

He then thinks about the almost glittery shine the water emits as the fish rush to the surface at the promise of food he’d begin to scatter. The sight was mesmerizing...

With a hum he turns the key to the engine and she roars to life, the noise bringing a smile to his face. He’d visited the place so many times in the past that he had the entire area mapped out in his head. It was a rare occurrence however when he’d actually be able to nab one of the legendary golden fish that he saw shining up the water and bringing it home. Once he’d tried to keep one in a tank back at his apartment only for it to die a few days later despite the perfect condition of the tank. After that incident he’d learned it was better off to sell the fish for his own sake. They definitely earned him a good keep on the market...

It doesn't take him long to back Sugar Crystal out of her parked space and cruise on down the rest of the dock onward towards the sea. As he drove he cautiously craned his head side to side to see if he could spot any other people leaving alongside him, when the coast was clear though he let his shoulders relax. Not many people were getting up to set sail today after the storm from last night it seemed.

Good.

All the more fish for him.

\----

Soft tunes drift out across the sea as he travels, the small town slowly being left behind him. He hums along to the music whilst fiddling with a piece of rope he’d tied to the wheel sometime in the past. They’re both a nice distraction from the otherwise silent journey he’d undertaken as without that slight background noise he might go mad. Sure the waves created enough sound on their own but he’d accidentally and subconsciously learned how to tune them out. He supposed spending so much time around them would do that to you.

No matter though, he liked the music that emitted from his little radio. It was an old model, light pink and sat on the dash just to the left of the wheel. There was a faded sticker of a fish near the volume dial that had a little smiley face, he’d gotten that from some kid in town years ago. It made him smirk.

Taking a sip from his clear water bottle, Salt looked out over the horizon and at the disappearing horizon, soon it would be just him and the endless ocean... It always felt kind of melancholy to leave the land behind despite how little he missed it. Maybe it was because he’d be away from his friends for a while, well, what little friends he had anyway...Whatever. He got used to it and they always knew where he was going albeit...not the actual location this time. But he’d be fine. He had a GPS and map; they hadn’t failed him in the past.

\----

It’s a few hours later when the land has disappeared that Salt is taking a little break out on deck to give his legs a rest. Standing in the same spot for so long had become common practice out at sea but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt.

Plus he was old so...y’know.

He sits on one of the crates with his water and a snack and stretches out his arms behind him with a yawn. He’d had a good night's sleep, despite the storm of course, but he still felt pretty tired; perhaps not being out at sea for so long had made him forget how the lul of a boat could make you drowsy. Perhaps he was just lazy, or whatever other number of reasons he could think of. A sigh escaped him when his back cracked pleasantly. 

With one final stretch of his legs it was time to continue on his journey; he was gonna be out here for quite some time anyway, might as well get to it.

\---

Sunset arrives quickly and the moon rises to take its place; with it a cold chill settles over the sea and when the wind picks up Salt decides to call it a day. He’s made good progress across the water and he’d really rather not stay up too late and ruin his sleep schedule or get a cold; it’d ruin the whole trip. With that settled he lowers the anchor and turns off the engine, the radio had long since been turned off and his drink placed in a drawer earlier.

With one final look across the deck to make sure there wasn’t anything he needed to bring down with him, he unlocked the hatch door situated in the middle of the deck and slowly made his way down the steps into the belly of Crystal. Sure the space down here wasn’t huge but it had all he needed: a bed, bathroom, kitchen area and a table. Really, what else could one fisherman need?

There was also storage on either end of his bed and a little circular window just above it, it had a slim sill where he sometimes sat a book or a cup of tea before bed. It was incredibly cozy. Right now though it was empty, he’d been considering putting a rock or shell on it as decoration but he hadn’t been able to find the right one…Perhaps one that the town children had given him would fit?

Alas he could think about that another time, right now it was time to sleep.

His day clothes were swapped out for a simple light shirt and sweatpants, the hair tie fell loose from his dreads and he wrapped it around his wrist before waving said hand over his scalp till the dreads unbunched, spreading out over his shoulders. The next second Salt plops himself down on his bed, face smushed up and content to just lay on the sheets, breathing. 

….

….

‘This pillow smells musty…’

He smacks it with his palm.

When Salt finally settles fully in bed; sleep overtakes him.

\----


	2. Tunk Tunk Tunks in the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bitches be tunkin

**THUNK**

Salt awakes with a jolt, fingers digging into his blanket from the surprise awakening. 

‘What the hell?’

**Tunk**

He turns over in bed to lay on his back blinking into the dark, confused and dazed. He squints up at the ceiling. What was that?

**Tunk** **Tunk**

Was he imagining it? Some remnant from a dream he’d had?

**Tunk** **Tunk** **_Thonk_**

No that was definitely something knocking along the side of the boat. With furrowed brows he sits up slowly and looks around the hold. Where was it coming from?

**Thonk** **Thonk** **_Clack-_**

Salt jumps again as something heavily smacks against the window just to his right. He forces his breathing to even out, annoyed he was even jumping at the sounds in the first place. The combination of just waking up in the pure dark mixed with the fear of the unknown flared up his anxiety tenfold. 

**Clack Clack Clack Clack**

Something was tapping on the window.

With caution he eased himself forward in bed, squinting into the endless expanse of dark water in front of him. It was hard to make out anything at all with how black it all was without any light; looking into the ocean would be impossible at this time of night. The thought of turning on a light crossed his mind but before he could even blink a bright white beacon shone up against the glass. He was proud of himself for not startling at it but ...a chill ran up his spine. His hands gripped tighter to the blanket as he stared, not quite sure what he was looking at until the thing  _ blinked _ . As soon as the light returned from under its lid the thing dashed away, a black shadow following from behind for just a few feet. There was another couple of bumps further up against the boat that rocked her slightly and then it was silent.

Salt hissed out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. 

“What the pissing shit-?”

What the HELL had that been? Seriously- what even-?

He takes a deep breath and eases away from the window, uncurling his fingers from the blanket over his knees. The rational part of his brain was telling him it was just a fish, a really  _ really _ big ass fish. But there was no way he could explain the nail like clacking against the window. Or the methodical human like blink despite the ghostly glow of the pupil.

For now it was probably best not to think about it. If he didn’t have any idea what it was; it was probably best not to think about it.

With a grunt he laid back down in bed, forcing the tension out of his shoulders. Getting back to sleep was going to be a bitch. He glanced at the window a few times before grumbling and turning over so his back was to it.

**Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it.**

_**Stop. Thinking. About It.** _

Falling asleep again did in fact turn out to be a bitch.


	3. Day Two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First proper encounter with the mysterious creature of the night; it goes.... alright, Salt supposes.

The next morning Salt awakens feeling grouchy. He’d been in and out of consciousness all night worrying about whatever that creature had been and where it had gone and why- all kinds of questions had been filling his head and making it absolutely insufferable to try and get any kind of rest. In the end he’d just ended up passing out, it wasn’t the healthiest of decisions but at least it was better than no sleep at all.

He hadn’t even gotten out of bed before knowing he was gonna need a lot of coffee.

Mug in hand, clothes changed and hair refixed in a ponytail atop his head it was time to face the day despite how tired he still felt. Maybe he could take a nap half way through the day, he’d have to set an alarm though because knowing him he’d sleep half the day away if he was allowed. He’d left some toast to sit in the kitchen that he’d made whilst getting dressed, it’d burnt slightly under the grill whilst he was doing his hair and he was still debating on eating it. Burnt toast wasn’t very nice but he didn’t really fancy anything else to eat and he couldn’t just go the morning on coffee alone.

“I mean I could but…”

With a huff he called up the anchor at the touch of a button on Crystals dash. Listen to him; debating with himself out loud in the middle of nowhere about unimportant things, well eating was important when out at sea but- He should just go get and eat the damn toast already and stop bitching before it got cold and even worse.

So he did.

With a grimace.

It tasted like shit.

At least the jam was nice though. It got all over his beard but it was the good stuff so he licked off as much as he could. His coffee was quickly downed to get rid of the shitty burnt taste and then he was on his way. The coffee didn’t do much to wake him up and instead left him with an awkward buzz he wouldn’t be able to properly shake whilst driving but at least he wouldn’t pass out for the next couple of hours.

The radio is turned back on to pass the time and he drums his fingers along to the beat. Salt didn’t want to say he was getting bored on only his second morning out at sea but it was getting mighty close. He really had spent too much time on land around people; it’d made him forget all the cons of sea travel, it wasn’t like he could bring up a book or make something with his hands either whilst driving, what if he hit a rock? Or drifted off course? His eyes needed to be on the waves and the GPS at all times or he’d get lost and waste fuel.

It really had been too long since he’d visited that golden spot so far away from home. 

Or maybe he was just getting too old for this kind of lifestyle and should think about going back home and settling down.

That final thought made him frown.

No...no....he was out here now, there was no point turning back so early into the trip. At this point he was just finding idle things to complain about, it wasn’t like this was his first time out at sea for God's sake, what on earth was he thinking?

“I’ve been idle with my thoughts for far too long…” Salt mumbles. “Just gotta get back into the rhythm of things that’s all...” With that he nods to himself.

Yeah that was it...He was excited to see the legendary fish again! Of course he was!

He really really was! 

….

So then why did he feel so glum?

\----

It’s about the same time as yesterday when he takes his break again, it had felt like an eternity standing once again in the same spot for hours doing not much but idly turning a steering wheel, he’d only have to do it for a few more days, however. Only two more if he was lucky. One if the wind and waves decided they were on his side and stopped pushing him in the opposite direction of where he was trying to go. Of which currently they were. At least Crystals anchor was strong enough to keep them safely in place.

He’d made something more substantial to eat this time; beans, eggs and sausage of which he ate at the little table next to the stairs. It’d taken him a while to cook on the stove and his stomach growled angrily at him for starting the food so late but he’d dealt with it with a grimace. He hated feeling hungry.

Now he was sitting down at least he could do something recreational. In between bites of food Salt twisted ropes into different knots and laid them out on the table around him. It gave him something to do and it felt good to tug the rope between his hands. Maybe he had some pent up energy he needed to burn off? He definitely felt restless… With the number of knots that came to mind in his head he could create twisting and curling patterns all day if he so desired…

Bimini twist, Albright, Perfection Loop, Nail, Double Davy… All these fishing hook knots he could list off of the top of his head and even a few from climbing and boating were laid out on the table. He’d learnt most of them from a young age and kept them safe in memory since then, it was staggering how many there were; they were all so interesting. 

With a content sigh he laid the fork down on his empty plate, now that his food was finished and the ropes were all tied he supposed it was time to get back to sailing. Crystal couldn’t drive herself! Even though right now he really wished she could…

\----

This time Salt stays up for a little bit longer and eats his dinner whilst driving. Earlier after lunch when he’d felt restless he’d pulled up the anchor instead of letting Sugar Crystal do it automatically. Heaving the heavy thing all the way up until it latched into place had certainly been hard work and left him sweating but least he didn’t feel like running laps around the boat anymore after that. It was peaceful tonight though, the wind was calm and warm, the stars twinkled brightly in the sky and what little clouds there were gave way to a full moon; letting its reflection dazzle on the ocean waves below. 

It was nothing like last night and it really couldn’t be anymore perfect…

Actually-

With a flick of the wrist the little radio blinks on, a song he doesn’t know plays before he pushes in the tape laying idly off to the side with a click. It’s one he made himself years ago; the tunes are old and crackly sounding almost broken through the speakers but the feeling he gets when the notes hit his ears can only be explained as pure and unrivaled bliss. It’s like opening up to an old friend again and he smiles; content.

The moment is completely ruined when something large smacks into the left side of the boat, rocking her over the water; teetering awkwardly until she can find her balance.

Salt sucked in a gasp at the movement, gripping the wheel tight and digging his feet into the dock to stop himself from being knocked over. He refuses to move until the boat is still. It takes a few awkward seconds of standing there with his shoulders raised like a moron before he finally presses the release on the anchor and hears it drop into the ocean with a distant splash.

Had he hit a rock?

He lets out a sigh; running a hand over his forehead before digging it in his hair. With his other hand he turns off the radio and the tape ejects.

“So much for a nice quiet evening with the stars....”

The engine turns off with a rumble and he sighs again, walking over to the left side of the boat. Peaking over he instantly notices the lack of any rocks or debris that he could have hit and furrows his eyebrows, thoroughly confused.

So it wasn’t a rock? Then what had he hit?

….

Or perhaps: _ What had hit him? _

A shudder snakes its way up his back and he crosses his arms, digging his fingernails into his skin his mind goes straight to the creature he’d seen last night; the long shadow, the thumps and clunks it’d made along the hull, its piercing white stare…

And now it had the ability to tip his boat if it so chose to? 

Salt shakes his head and steps back from the railing, images of being dragged over the edge of a dock by a shadowy figure and choked by water slowly filling his lungs filled his head and pried at his anxiety. He shakes his head with a smile through gritted teeth; takes another step back until he’s by the steering wheel again.

“Yeah… no thanks…not again...”

It’s about half an hour later before he finally budges again. He’d almost started hyperventilating but forced his breathing to even out before it even started. He hoped by now the thing was gone for his own sanity. By god he hoped it was gone. His eyebrows furrowed as he forced himself forward, arms still crossed and nails digging in painfully. He pried them away. His forearms stung. Peeking out over the edge once more brought him nothing but deep, dark waters as far as the eye could see that went unpierced by light; the moon had disappeared behind the clouds and left him to his own devices. He hated how small it made him feel.

He settled his hands on the railing (when had they started shaking?) and let out a long sigh when nothing moved or jumped out of the water.

Long forgotten words trickled in at the back of his head, whispering and teasing him.  _ ‘See? There’s nothing out here, what were you getting so worked up about, huh?’ _

Salt grits his teeth, hands flexing on the railing in annoyance.

_ ‘Really, that imagination of yours! You’re an idiot for even thinking-” _

A sudden shape underwater catches his eyes; a long shadow eases its way through the water underneath him, eerily close to the boats side, but this time he doesn’t back away and instead thinks about that first encounter once more; when he’d held his ground and stared right back at whatever thing had been staring at him. He channels that night into his mind, standing still and composed as his bravery trickles back to him before making his next move.

Jogging after it his eyes do their best to follow as it snakes through the water, reaching the front of the boat before turning and slipping underneath. Salt continues to follow and both he and the creature loop the boat in less than a minute. He stops near the front when he realises the creature is intending on doing it again and instead leans over slightly to watch as it goes. The fear of the unknown is now replaced with curiosity and slight anger. It loops his boat three more times before he moves again; for the silver harpoon by his feet.

Two nights in a row this thing has shown up now and it really though it could get away with the anxiety it was giving him? Yeah no, he was gonna give this thing a taste of its own medicine.

He pushes himself up close to the side for a good shot and on it’s fourth swim around Salt strikes. The harpoons cut through the air and down into the water with hardly a sound and he pulls it back up by the rope just as quickly. The creature halts in its swimming almost seeming surprised.

“Go away!” He shouts, hands ready and waiting for another throw.

He didn’t want to hurt the thing, whatever it was, maybe it was actually just a dolphin or a shark which he’d hate to hurt, no matter what it was though Salt just wanted it to  _ go away.  _ He waves his hand in a shooing motion.

“You listening, you son of a bitch? Stop following me and-! Fuck-! Off!” 

With that he throws the harpoon again into the murky depths and it lands much closer than he’d meant it too. He furrowed his eyebrows, worried he’d hurt the creature but was surprised when a sudden hard  _ tug _ on the rope careens him over the edge. Letting out a yelp he drops the harpoon and grabs backwards with both arms for the railing, catching it just in time with his forearms before he’s sent spiraling headfirst into the water below. He pulls himself back over and lands hard on his feet with a gasp, the feeling of being upside down for just a second sent his head spinning.

….

Well then!

He definitely hadn’t been expecting that!

Which is what made it feel all the more terrifying!

Letting out another (albeit more shaky) sigh, Salt eases himself down onto his knees and rests his head on his arms up against the railing to catch his breath. He really wasn’t in the mood to take a midnight dip in the sea especially when some unknown cryptid had been stalking his boat and had stolen his harpoon, he was fine with the loss though because his favorite golden harpoon was sitting down in the hull near the stairs, the silver ones that were one deck were for more spur of the moment throws…

‘Like just now I suppose…’ He thought to himself. 

“That was stupid...” He whispers into his arms.

There was no way he was gonna throw another one though, if the creature was strong enough to pull him into the water with only one small tug he’d hate to think what would happen if he actually hit it. 

God what was he thinking?

With one last sigh he tugs himself to his feet and looks out over the railing. His harpoon is nowhere to be seen but the shadow continues to float in the same spot where it had stopped previously. It’s slightly ominous but after tonight Salt doesn’t think anything else this thing does could surprise him; it was just so strange! Might as well have an open mind about it.

He looks up when the moon finally returns from behind the clouds and shines across the sea once more, it seems however that’s the creatures queue to leave as it darts off into the horizon before Salt can even think to get a glance at it beneath the waves leaving him baffled and even more confused than before.

So it wasn’t a big fan of light? 

Hm…good to know. That’s probably why he hasn’t seen anything of it during the day.

Maybe tomorrow night he’d see it again?

T here were so many questions piling up in his head he was dying to know the answer to, anxiety and fear be damned, now he was  _ excited _ .

Finally, something interesting to look into whilst on his trip!

  
Hopefully he’d figure out what it was soon… There was no way he was going to lead this thing to his secret fishing spot, there was no knowing of what it’d do! And he’d  _ really rather not _ want to have to kill it…


	4. Day Three; an exchanging of gifts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Gives you a pocket knife and seashell out of blank curiosity to see what you'll do.

Now that Salt was over his fear of the creature (kind of, it still freaked him out not knowing what it was exactly), curiosity took over his thoughts for the entirety of the next morning. Since there was no internet connection this far out and he didn’t have any books on hand to research it he’d made do with noting down anything and everything he’d noticed and knew about the creature throughout the day. Around lunchtime when he took his regular break he went over the little written list once more as he made a sandwich.

“At least five ft, one white glowing pupil, strong, intelligent, self aware? Or- no… Hmm…has a self concept? God I hope not,” He laid the list on the counter next to the empty plate. “If that thing can think for itself I’m out of here.”

The bread is buttered and laid out on the plate, next he layers in some ham and lettuce and then picks up the slices of tomato.

“Doesn’t like the light-” He starts before getting cut off at a sudden-

**Thunk**

Salt blinks putting the tomato back down. Had he really heard that or was it just the waves playing tricks on his mind.

**Tunk Tunk Tunk**

Something hitting the underside of the hull consecutively and on purpose three times in a row is definitely not the waves playing tricks on him. His face scrunches up into confusion as he looks towards the hatch that cuts him off from the deck from where the louder thunk had come from. He waits a few more seconds curious and contemplating-

**Tunk Tunk Tunk**

There it was again; the same three knocks only this time a little bit louder. Salt pulls himself away from the half made sandwich hesitantly and climbs up the wooden steps then with a simple push the hatch falls back onto the deck behind him with a clack. The noise catches whatever it is’ attention because there’s a small splash noise to the left of the boat; the spot Salt had thrown and lost his harpoon at not only last night. Frowning he makes his way over with caution.

The boards creak slightly at his movement and on the way his foot connects with something small and hard, looking down he finds a pocket knife dripping a wet patch into the decking near his feet. Intrigued, he squats down to pick it up, taking care not to cut himself on the slightly exposed blade as he holds it in his palms to look it over. It’s not in too bad a condition; rusted slightly at the hinge with the red paint covering the handle starting to flake but otherwise it’s a perfectly good looking pocket knife that he has never seen before in his life.

Where on earth had it come from?

Standing up, Salt swaps the knife between his hands as he wipes sand and grime off of the handle to his best ability. He makes the last few steps towards the railing and glances over the edge into the shadow the Sugar Crystal casts over the water only for his eyes to widen in surprise when a deeper shadow looms underneath; the same size as the creature from the past two nights. It had come out during the day and proved him wrong. He lets out an impressed “huh”.

“So you do like the light….” He murmurs, resting his elbows on the railing. Twisting the knife between his fingers, he manages to pull out the blade despite the rust and huffs out a laugh.

“Coulda fooled me.”

The blade is in pretty perfect condition and reflects the sunlight when he holds it up high into the air, only the very bottom part is rusted over but it would be a pretty easy fix. He hums and looks back to the water where the shadow still sits. The only explanation he can think of for the sudden knife is that the creature had found it and thrown it aboard, why though he has no idea. His eyebrow raises when a sudden idea pops to his mind and he pushes away from the railing to track back down the stairs into the hold.

He returns to the railing with a long forgotten tile from the shower down below, it had come loose from the wall years ago and he’d never bothered to try and stick it back up since, instead it had been lying on the shelf near the toilet collecting dust. The pattern was simple but interesting; a small pink circle surrounded by a larger lighter pink circle, the rest of the tile was white. Holding out his palm over the edge Salt waits a second before dropping it into the murky depths and watches as it slowly sinks until it’s gone from his view. There’s no telling if the creature had grabbed for it or simply let it sink but he waits patiently anyway. A few moments later and it darts off, down down down until it too cannot be seen.

With a hum Salt decides to sit on a crate and wait for it to return.

\----

It was taking longer than he’d expected for the creature to return so to pass the time his sandwich was made and consumed. Afterwards he brought the radio over from the wheel to listen to his old tape just to fill the blankness around him. A few songs in he started tapping his fingers to the tune and before long he closed his eyes; singing softly along to the lyrics almost subconsciously.

“ Moody river, more deadly than the vainest knife...moody river, your muddy water took my baby's life… last Saturday evenin'... came to the old oak tree, it stands beside the river where you were to meet me~ On the ground your glove I found with a note addressed to me, it read ‘Dear love, I've done you wrong, now I must set you free. No longer can I live with this hurt and this sin, I just couldn't tell you that guy was just a friend…’” 

Salt sucks in a breath and opens his eyes out over the sea.

“Moody river, more deadly than the vainest knife...moody river, your muddy water took my baby's life...I looked into the muddy water and what could I see? I saw a lonely, lonely face just- lookin' back at me...Tears in his eyes and a prayer on his lips and the glove of his lost love at his fingertips..” He lean’s onto the railing sucking in another breath to sing out the last two verses before gasping at seeing the creatures shadow has returned just beneath the water.

The radio sings out the last two lines for him instead.

‘Moody river, more deadly than the vainest knife, moody river, your muddy water took my baby's life.’

Salt lets out an awkward chuckle and scratches a hand over the back of his head feeling like he’d been caught in the middle of some explicit act.

“So you were listening, huh?” He questions the shadow, not really expecting nor getting an answer. He huffs and shifts on the railing before reaching behind him to turn off the radio. “You took your sweet time, get lost?” 

It feels silly talking to some unknown shadow creature but it wasn’t like he had anyone else to talk to out here. Maybe it really was just some big smart fish and he’d be able to tell the kids back home that they weren’t much for conversation if they ever asked if he spoke to them. Sometimes he did actually speak to the fish he caught but it was mainly murmurs of ‘Stop squirming.’ and ‘You little shit!’ if one managed to bite him.

No matter, the shadow creature was back and sitting in place below him being just as ominous as it had been during their past two encounters. He shifts again on the railing to rest his head on a hand and squints down into the water trying to get a better look at whatever could be down there. The water suddenly shifts and something flies out with a small splash making him grunt in surprise and reach out subconsciously. The object flies up to about his eye height and he catches it with ease in the palm of his hand. From the first touch Salt can tell its small and circular shaped and upon opening his hand he sees its a pale pink seashell.

A scallop seashell, to be exact.

“Oh…”

He brings the shell closer to his face, running his thumbs over the bridges and bumps that adorn it. It’s a very pretty shade of pink, almost salmon, but upon closer examination there are darker splotches of pink almost red near the flattened end that set it apart and make it special.

He can’t help but smile. His hypothesis had been right! The creature had swapped the shower tile he gave it for something of its own! For what reason or purpose Salt still didn’t know, but, at least he knew the reasoning behind the pocketknife, now; the creature had given it to him in trade for the harpoon.

He hums.

“Not too bad, you’ve got a good eye for things my mysterious friend....”

Salt flips the shell between his fingers a few more times before the creature is off once more. He watches it go and plonks down on the crate just to his right prepared to wait until it comes back again.

…

It doesn’t.


	5. Protecting.

When it returns he’s asleep and tucked in bed, blanket bundled up near his face and hair fanned out over the pillow framing his head like a halo. It watches him from outside of the window silently, claws tapping lightly on the frame of the glass impatient but not wanting to wake him. It looks in and down at the sill to where the knife and shell it had brought him lay proudly on display. If it gave any kind of response to that nobody saw it, especially not Salt. It sat watching for a few minutes more as he turned in bed but with one final glance it finally returned to its previous nightly routine.

Harpoon at the ready it began circling the boat methodically, eye darting every which way it could and looking out for any danger that dare rear its ugly head.

It didn’t stop doing this until sunrise when Salt arose from slumber and light trickled down into the water from above: erasing all darkness and shadows that had been consuming the waters around them only moments before hand.

Only then when it felt the human was safe in the light did it finally leave to feed.


	6. Day Four: A sudden turn of events.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh shit boi loogoud heere comees da storm wooaahahaaa
> 
> In all seriousness though Trigger Warning for depictions of almost drowning and near death experiences.

He feels exhausted the next morning, having stayed up in wait for the creatures return had done nothing but make him wish for more rest- but he was so close to his destination! He was at least a days drive from the location; rocks and land could be seen off on the horizon. It would still be an annoying drive though with the currents being how they were; after raising the anchor the boat was instantly and aggressively pushed back by the waves so he had to be quick about turning on the engine and going on his way.

The day was pretty lackluster despite the wind and aggressive currents, the shadow creature didn’t show up like yesterday and other than the far off rocks nothing else caught Salts attention. It was all just very boring and it was reminding him of the first two days of travel all over again. No matter! He was so close he could almost taste it! Or maybe that was just the salty sea air....

In between driving he’d taken to cleaning the knife of its rust, it was about finished around lunch time when he took his break to fix something to eat. Once food was made and eaten the knife looked as good as new, all it needed now was a new coat of paint on the handle and it would look like it was straight from the store shelves. He’d placed it back on the window sill before returning to driving; the radio his only company in the silence.

He wished the creature would return if only so he could have something to look at other than the sea and sky, but no matter how many times he checked it was nowhere to be found. Perhaps it really didn’t like the light afterall…

When nightfall came Salt found himself wide awake. The waves were causing havoc and rocking the Sugar Crystal too hard to be considered safe or comfortable but there wasn’t really anything he could do about it except sleep and hope tomorrow morning there wouldn’t be much push against him when he started driving again. Until it settled down though he’d have to occupy himself with something.

In the end he decided on settling down on his bed with a book; his lucky blanket bundled around his shoulders and a cup of tea in one hand. He’d let his hair out again around his shoulders and everything felt oh so comfy despite the violent rocking of the boat. 

An hour later a bright white light outside the window snatched his attention and he looked into the waters with a small smile; the creature had returned.

He shuffled into a cross legged position in front of the glass and ignored his book for now, wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders and taking a sip from the mug as the shadow made hard and strong movements through the water. It looked to be having trouble staying next to the boat and Salt frowned almost concerned. The rocking of the boat was getting even more aggressive and he looked around behind him into the dark of the hold. Nothing had fallen out of place just yet but it would do soon if he didn’t do anything about it…

There were some sandbags in his storage somewhere…. If he could tie them to the rope on Crystal’s outer edge it might stop her from swaying so drastically and help a little bit maybe…it would have a similar effect to dropping sandbags over the side of a hot air balloon, hopefully.

Humming at the idea Salt stands and grips the wall for balance, he pushes off the blanket to the bed and the rest of the tea is deposited down the sink. Nowhere would be safe from spilt tea right now with how strong the rocking had gotten and if he was a few years younger and not as experienced Salt would probably be panicking right about now. But he knew what to do and how to keep level headed so collecting the sand brags and dragging them to the stairs didn’t take too long. Getting them up the stairs would be just a little bit harder however…

A bag slung over his shoulder was brought up as he climbed the stairs and pushed the hatch open, rain instantly pelted his face and had him grimacing but he continued up onto the deck with a grunt not wanting to waste even a second putting on a coat or boots lest it be a mistake.

The sky had turned dark with anger as thunder and rain fell from above having turned the previously white clouds grey and ugly. It was definitely concerning; there wasn’t supposed to be a storm again for another long while! It’s why he’d come out in the first place! Salt grumbled to himself as the rain soaked him to the bone, sticking his tee shirt to his skin, making him shiver.

The first sandbag was tied to the back near the lowered anchor. He leaned over carefully and skillfully made a knot without dropping said bag until it was fully tied on. The second one he put perpendicular on the other side, the third and fourth went near the wheel in the same pattern and the fifth was the last of the bags he’d pulled out of storage. He let out a heavy sigh but took it up anyway. By now he was absolutely soaked through and shivering, there was no point putting on a coat now, definitely, or boots for that matter; they would only drag him down further.

The deck around him had a layer of water on it he trudged through annoyed, as he got to the railing however the boat rocked sideways and dangerously close to tipping making his heart beat flutter. Sucking in a gasp Salt gripped the wet railing and grit his teeth, he’d have to hurry if he didn’t want that to happen again.

Leaning over once more was a little bit harder with the railing digging into his stomach but he put up with it and stretched down to grab for the rope, it slipped from his grasp as the boat rocked once again and a wave washed over the side opposite from him flooding the deck and hitting the back of his ankles. It was freezing! The sandbag hanging from his grip was starting to make his wrist ache so with one final push he went for the rope and grabbed ahold with a grunt. Just as he was about to start tying the rope the boat tipped once more…

And sent him hurtling over the edge straight into the water below.

He tried not to gasp, he really did, but once the chilly water hit his chest he couldn’t help but open his mouth in surprise. Water instantly filled his mouth and he coughed only to make the problem worse as it got down his throat. Salt opened his eyes and forced himself to not swallow as that would only worsen his predicament. He needed to find the surface and fast, it shouldn’t be too far up. 

“Shouldn’t” being the key word.

He flipped until he was looking up and then pushed himself through the water, his lungs were killing him and not being able to breath in or out was causing havoc on his throat but he was doing it. As soon as he breached the surface he spat out the water and continued his previous coughing, the salty water scraped on his throat and after swallowing a few mouthfuls of air it felt like he’d taken a belt sander to the throat.

Now that he was on the surface, staying up there and getting back to his boat was his next challenge. The current and waves were brutal; pushing him in all directions and trying to drag him back under the water but he kicked as hard as he could in the direction of the Sugar Crystal, with every drag his hands took through the water the boat seemed further and further away. He’d never reach her again like this!

With a hiss he tried hovering in place but the waves were too strong and washed over his head, pulling him under once more. He hadn’t had time to take a deep enough breath so instead held a hand over his mouth and nose and looked up again but there was no way to tell which way was up or down as he spun in the water. Panic started to set in at the back of his mind as the small pin prick feeling settled in his lungs from the lack of air. He didn’t dare move in case he swam deeper into the water but if he stayed under for too much longer he’d run out of air and start choking again... what could he do?!

He twisted and turned, the waves continuing to push and pull him in every which way as his eyes darted about in the darkness unable to see any hint at the way out. But then… there! In the distance! A bright shining beacon of light in the otherwise darkened waves stood out to him and he reached towards it, legs kicking uselessly in a vain attempt to bring him closer to the only distinguishable thing around him. It came closer and closer until Salt was close enough it touch it-

Another strong current hit him in the chest and he gasped, squeezed his eyes shut in annoyance at the water in his mouth and flapped his arms to try and keep still as the wave flipped and carried him away from the light. His head was pounding just as hard as the heart in his chest. He couldn’t keep this up much longer, the breath he’d had was gone and he was going to start choking soon, there was no knowing which way was up and now he was panicking! Great!!!

Something hard bumped into his back and grabbed at his shirt collar making him jump, it pushed into him moving them both through the water and he reached behind himself to get a feel at whatever the hell it could be. His hands met something scaly but ultimately soft and he squeezed his eyes shut confused. His lungs were killing him and he felt faint, he needed air  **now!**

A few seconds later and he was above water again, spitting and coughing annoyed at almost choking for the second time in only five minutes, the thing behind him was still gripping at his shirt and what felt like an arm(?) was under his right armpit keeping him afloat. He panted taking in great gasps of air but now he was exhausted from the strain on his lungs and body, there was no way in hell he would be able to swim back to the boat in the condition he was in now. But it didn’t look like he’d need to as the thing holding him moved them slowly through the water, closer and closer to Sugar Crystal who was being thrown around by the waves just as Salt had been.

“So much…for...the...sandbags…” He pants, wiping water from his eyes to his best ability. 

He turns his head to the side trying to get a look over his shoulder at whatever is helping him through the water but all he can see is a very faint white glow. 

“The hell?-” He starts but is instantly cut off when his hands come into contact with something hard.

Whipping back around he finds himself face first with Sugar Crystals side and instantly reaches up for the rope above him. Relief fills him when he acquires a firm grip on the rope and he pulls himself up out of the water, he doesn’t get far however as the water on the railing makes getting a stable hand hold impossible, instead his hands slip off with every attempt to pull himself higher and he lets out a frustrated shout on the fourth attempt, anger piling up and making him grit his teeth.

He was so close to getting back on board! If he was just a little bit higher then maybe he could-

Confusion takes over the anger and frustration as he’s lifted higher out of the water; something hard is pushing against thighs and is giving him just enough height to wrap his elbow over the railing. With a hiss he manages to get both elbows over the railing only for the support to disappear just as quickly as its given as a wave crashes into his back, causing him to slip back down.

“Mother fuckin’-!” With a curse his hands latch onto the railing catching him just in time but leaving him hanging on the side precariously. “Ow- ow- ow- fuck-” The metal digs into his palms and stings harshly.

He squeezes his eyes shut once more and tries to ignore the pain, kicking his bare feet against the boat to try and find any kind of leverage that could raise him just that little bit higher, but the effort is fruitless, the kicking hitting nothing but the smooth metal and plastic of the boat.

A particularly strong wave bobs the boat downwards and washes over Salts head before crashing his chest into the hold with a  _ whack _ sending incredible pain blossoming out over his ribs. He keeps his mouth closed despite how badly he wants to shout because he’s so god damned _ fed up of having salt water in his mouth  _ but the pain is almost unbearable. With a hiss he tries reaching back up over the railing only to start the slipping cycle all over again. He tries one last time before giving up and deciding on just holding on for dear life.

The waves continue to crash into him and sway the Sugar Crystal dangerously; not giving a damn if they perished along the way and all Salt can do is hold on and hope the wind and rain would die down soon. 

It doesn’t. 

Instead he’s picked up and slammed into the boat once ( _ whack _ ) twice ( _ WHACK _ ) more only this time he gives in and shouts out in agony, trying his best to muffle the noise in his shoulder to stop any water from snaking its way into his mouth. It does the job but he can feel his fingers slipping from their grip; he’s going to fall back in the water any second now and with the horrible pain across his chest there’s no way he’ll be able to get back up!

Unluckily it doesn’t matter as the next wave that forms lifts the Sugar Crystal high up into the sky, way too high and before he can even think to fix his grip on the railing he’s pulled away and sent spiraling as she finally fully tips over sideways, sending Salt headfirst into the crashing waves below.

He hits the water much too hard.

  
  
  


Everything goes dark.


	7. Day ?: Pain.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oof ouch his bones

The first thing Salt notices when regaining consciousness is unbelievable, numbing pain all across his chest, stomach and arms. Even though his eyes are closed he wants to squeeze them shut even tighter because the pain is so unbearable but all he can do is whine in agony. Beneath him he can feel wet sand sticking to his clothes and skin; it’s under his nails and in his mouth and he feels absolutely rotten and beaten up. 

Waves sound and crash around him making him anxious to where he has ended up laying so he opens his eyes slowly to take in the scenery. He blinks a few times to try and rid grime from his eyes but to no avail so instead he cautiously moves one of his hands from the sand to wipe away at them instead; finally letting him see the beach and rocks around him and the slowly rising shore line behind him. He really needs to be further up the beach lest the waves carry him off once more.

With that in mind Salt begins to push himself up from the sand, starting by raising himself up on his forearms only for a shout to rip from his mouth as the pain in his chest area worsens sending him dropping back down. Coming back into contact with the ground makes him whimper as he sees stars; the pain being too much to handle forcing him to black out once more.


	8. Day Four? Still?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so this bit is really long and it also goes into dealing with wounds/blood so careful if you dont like that kinda stuff

Awakening again isn’t as painful as it had been previously and for that he’s thankful but also very confused. When his eyes flutter open he notices he’s higher up on the beach than last time, much higher, and underneath the shade of a palm tree facing towards the water with large leaves layered over his chest and legs. This time moving doesn’t make him faint instantly but instead has him grimacing as the pain is still present all up his ribs and arms. Again, with caution, he pushes himself up from the ground and this time into a sitting position to which he can look down at the damage over his chest.

After pushing the leaves off to the side he looks down and is shocked to see his previously white shirt is stained a light pink and red colour, perhaps blood? Tentatively he peels the damp fabric away from his skin to look at whatever is underneath, finding himself shocked when curled and tied up around his stomach are strands of seaweed over what he presumes is the wound he’d bled from. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he wonders at how that could have gotten there, at what could have cut him, at how he’d managed to get so high up on the beach and at who’d covered him in the leaves to protect him from the rain. 

What had happened whilst he’d been out?

Who had done this?

And why wasn’t the pain as bad as earlier?

So many questions and absolutely no answers whatsoever....

With one hand keeping his shirt up, he uses the other to lightly pick at the knots in the seaweed until it unravels and falls to his lap revealing the nasty gashes in his skin it had been protecting. Two short but straight blood crusted lines are slashed across his stomach both the same size but with a space of untouched skin in the middle. Now that he thinks about it, pulling down and looking at his shirt also reveals two straight slashes right next to each other in the same spot as to where the marks are on his skin.

“Knife…marks?” He wonders out loud in a whisper. Unsurprisingly, his voice is incredibly hoarse and scratchy, he debates coughing to relieve the feeling but grimaces at the thought and shakes his head; he doesn’t want to agitate his wounds. “How....?”

He touches the marks with his fingertips, being careful to not pry open the drying wound, but finding himself doubting if the wounds really exist or not until a single dried flake of blood comes away on his fingertip. He squinted down at it; the rain and sand having stuck to his eyelashes and making his vision blurry after every blink, so he wipes at them like before he’d passed out and looks over the beach around him; noticing things he hadn’t previously. 

He flicks the flaked blood to the sand, forgotten. 

A good yard out in front of him Sugar Crystal has beached on the sand away from the water and lays slightly tilted on her side but not completely flat, many of the crates and coolers from the deck of his boat are scattered out around her as well as various other things like his life preserver and radio and not too far from his original laying position near the waves are a bunch of...silver....harpoons…

Salt does a double take, looking down at his wound then back up to the harpoons, from where he sits he can just make out a dark splotch on one of the harpoons hooked tips and grimaces once realising what must have happened to have caused the wound. Before long though he finds himself smirking.

“...Really…? My own...harpoo- hoo- hehehe- ahah hah ha-!” His words cut off as he suddenly starts laughing, having to hold his stomach as the movement hurts his ribs but finding himself unable to stop because of the mania of it all. The ridiculousness and strangeness of the situation at hand has him almost  _ reeling _ , pun intended! “He heh he hee hee- haah…ahh... hmmm… ughh…” His laugh finally tapers off into a giggle and then a groan before he finally stops and slumps against the palm tree behind him with a single cough.

“Fuck me…this is the worst night... of my life…” Salt sighs, a blink of realisation stopping him for a second before he continues. “Second… worst night of my life…” He looks around once more at his surroundings and pulls his knees up as close to his chest as he can bare, grimacing as the movement pulls on his wound but he forces himself to put up with the pain so he can hug his knees and mumble into them quietly. “Shit comes...pretty damn close though...mfph…”

With a sigh and a shiver he drags the previously abandoned leaves closer to his legs and lays them over his cold feet, he can see that they’re covered in sand, just like the rest of him is, but they’re especially cold out in the open like this. Luckily whilst he’d started waking the rain had stopped crashing down around him but beforehand the shade of the palm tree had definitely helped him out a ton.

It was still absolutely ball breakingly freezing in the wind though.

His Sugar Crystal would shade him from the elements easily but Salt didn’t know if he’d be able to stand let alone walk with his current injuries. Sure, sitting up had been a hell of a lot easier than it was the first time he’d tried it but it still hurt a fuck ton when he’d done it. As he’d reasoned before; he was just willing to put up with it.

Maybe he could give it a try…

He’d  _ have _ to give it a try unless he wanted to catch hypothermia. 

With that in mind Salt takes a deep breath and reaches around with his hand to grab at the bark of the tree behind him, he swivels on the sand slowly to sit on his thigh and hoping to not put any unnecessary strain on his chest; uses both hands on the tree to pull himself up. The leaves fall away from his feet as the now recurring pain blossoms up his ribcage and forearms, but with his teeth clenched and newfound determination he pushes through it. 

After a moment of struggling and feet shifting he finally stands with a hiss; his fingernails dig gashes into the tree bark but soon enough he’s standing upright despite the pain! 

Huffing in relief he thinks about giving himself a pat on the back but realises that would be a bit stupid considering his need to keep ahold of the tree to stay balanced. 

Now that he’s no longer floor bound however he could start thinking about making his way over to Sugar Crystal...

Without falling over and hurting himself….

In the blistering gale force wind...

Hmm... maybe this would be harder than he thought…

\----

Despite what he’d thought would be a hard challenge, trudging through the sand in the wind to get to Sugar Crystal hadn’t been that hard. Perhaps the wind had mercy on him this day and decided he’d been put through enough shit in the past few hours so it had gone easy on him. Perhaps he’d just chosen a good time to waddle across the beach and the wind has been at its lowest intensity. Perhaps he was going insane and none of this actually mattered because just becacuse he was here now he still wasn’t  _ inside and out of the fucking wind. _

With that in mind Salt takes his time to clamber over the railing; trying his hardest to let himself down gently on the other side as to not rattle his bones or shake the wound. He’s successful and with just a little bit of patience on his end his feet land softly on the decking below with a slight creak. It’s a relief to be back on solid ground despite the ships tilt but there’s no time to dawdle; he really needs to get the wound cleaned up and covered and there’s no knowing how long he’s been lying face down in the sand passed out! Any number of infections could have spread by now!

The hatch to below decking is thankfully still locked meaning no water from the storm would have sneaked its way in without him knowing. It would have been incredibly depressing to walk around a damp cabin in damp clothing only to find out all his other clothes had become damp too thanks to the waves. At least now he was the only damp one in this situation. Before he could find a change of clothes however the wound would need to be patched up and cleaned, it took priority over everything else in this situation.

Salt kneels to the floor shakily, his left hand steadying himself to the side of the hatch as he flips up the lock. The metal pulls away easily allowing him to open up the entrance to below but the clack of the hatch hitting the wood makes him wince. If he kept letting that happen then sooner or later there would be a dent forming in the floorboards…

Instead of standing up again he decides it would be easier to scoot down the stairs one at a time on his butt. He’d really rather not risk tripping and falling all the way down; causing more unwanted injuries upon himself. There really wasn’t any point in risking it considering the on and off shaking of his limbs, plus he was awfully tired by this point and wanted to move as little as possible.

Scooting down the stairs took some time and he had to awkwardly shut the hatch behind himself half way down but otherwise the movements were painless. Finally getting to the bottom step and into the warmth of the cabin filled him with ease and Salt could finally let out a sigh of relief at being surrounded by familiarity, sure he was currently sitting in the dark but that could quickly be resolved. With a huff he pushed himself up and away from the stairway, this time the movement into standing being a lot easier than previously, taking care he fumbled around in the dark to the right of the stairway with his hands outstretched hoping to find the wall of closets where the light switch was situated. 

After a little bit of swearing and time spent patting uselessly along the wall he finally found the light switch and proceeded to flick it on; lighting up the cabin around him and revealing the absolute mess of a floor just out in front of him. Plates, cups, shirts, rope, blankets, you name it and there was at least one of that object somewhere on the floor or falling out of a cupboard somewhere in the tiny boats cabin.

Salt drags a hand over his head with a sigh as he stares down at the mess taking in what came from where and if there was anything broken. Luckily it seemed none of the objects were ruined and instead had just been thrown about during the storm but it would still be annoying to clean up in his condition. He sighs again.

“Terrific....” Making sure not to step on anything sharp he trudges over the blankets to the kitchen cabinets. “Now where’s the blasted med kit…I swear if that’s been thrown out too-” He begins to grumble to himself as he searches, ripping open cabinets and slamming them closed just as unhappily when the search comes up empty handed. “C’mon! Where in the seven seas is-” 

From below his foot nudges something hard under a blanket. Curious and with hope he bends down slowly to pull away the fabric and a relieved smile pulls at his lips at what was hiding underneath:

It was the medical kit he’d been looking for.

With his prize in hand, Salt tiptoes back over the blankets until he’s near the small seating area connected to the kitchen cabinets and lays the bag down smoothly on the table top. The kit’s zip he undoes as he sits but as soon as his back sinks into the comfortable and loving embrace of the chair cushion he can’t help but sigh. It felt like years since he’d felt comfort like this when in reality it had probably only been a few hours. With comfort in mind he pulls up the nearest blanket from the floor and before wrapping it over his shoulders, carefully slides his shirt off over his head, hoping to not pull on the wound. Once the shirt is placed off to the side he can finally pull the blanket over himself and close under his neck to warm his body and soul. 

Before he can let himself get too comfy however he flips open the kit and gets to work.

First things first the wound needed to be cleaned, he pulls out the antiseptic and a clean piece of cloth. He could try cleaning the cuts with a little bit of water before hand but that meant getting up again and honestly he really couldn’t be bothered to. The antiseptic cap comes off with a few twists and he places it down to replace it with the cloth. After a few shakes the liquid seeps into the fabric and starts to wet his finger tips.

“Oops...too much…” Salt chuckles awkwardly to himself and places the bottle down. 

Again he lies back into the cushion, shifting his legs to move his body into a better position to see his stomach. He looks down and the crusty wound stares back at him, it was now or never. 

“This is gonna suuuck...” He finds himself dragging out the word with a sigh. 

And he was right; this was gonna suck big time. Cleaning deep wounds would always leave you with quite the sting and he could confirm that to anyone. He’s had a lot of experience.

Taking a deep breath Salt attempted to slow his heartbeat with deep breaths in and out. In; one, two, three, four, out; one, two, three, four. After a silent moment of the fabric leaking fluid into his fingertips and dripping down his arm he finally ducked his hand down and started wiping around the wound. Sand and dried sea water came away easily at the touch of the cloth and dirtied it the more he went, he took his time to not accidentally touch the open wound just yet however but after only a few short moments the area around the wound was now clean and dirt free. Again Salt picked up the antiseptic but this time he shook it a lot less vigorously than the first into a different patch of the fabric.

Now came for the really suky part. Maybe he could bite down on something to help ease the pain?

Quickly looking through the medical kit rewarded him with some short wooden splints. They’d have to do however because there was nothing else in the kit he was willing to put in his mouth. Once they were balanced on top of each other he slipped them into his mouth and bit down, testing their strength. The splints held under his bite and he let out a sorrowful sigh. 

In a mumble Salt swore. 

“Fwuckin’ hell…”

Before pushing the fabric up against the left sided gash.

He didn’t exactly scream but he definitely didn’t half yell through the pain either. The stinging feeling as the antiseptic seeped into his wound was all too familiar but hurt just as much as the previous times he’d felt it. He let out a groan as pushing the cloth over the dried blood forced it to peel away from his skin. He continued the motion until the left gash was clean and starting to seep fresh blood and then with a sigh through gritted teeth nodded to himself. 

Good, that’s what he wanted. If the wound had already started healing whilst dirty, infection would have surely already started spreading. It was alright that it had already dried over once and was bleeding again since it meant he could properly clean it now, to which he continued to do on the other gash. 

Knowing that the sting was coming this time helped him settle easier into cleaning the last gash and he’d again shook antiseptic into a different patch of the fabric as to not dirty the wound anymore than it already was. Now that he was a little bit more used to the sting Salt managed to clean off the last of his wound faster than the previous one. Sure he huffed in pain all the way through but it was getting the job done.

With one last huff the dirtied and damp fabric was dumped on the table and he pulled out the splints from his mouth to join it. Next he reached into the kit for an adhesive dressing. With how much he’d be moving in the next few days he couldn’t really bandage the wounds so adhesive patches would have to do.

Glancing down though a thought crosses his mind.

_ ‘Do I need to stitch them?’ _

Humming Salt rips off the plastic backing to the dressing and pushes it down onto his skin to cover the left sided wound. He hisses once the fabric comes into contact with the gash but after a few smoothing out motions with his hand the feeling dulls. He does the same with the right sided wound, ripping open another dressing patch and laying it down before lightly patting over both of them to make sure they were stuck firmly in place.

“I’m sure it’s fine…” He mumbled, pulling the blanket fully over his shoulders and around him over his chest.

The wounds had clotted on their own over time without his help so he probably wouldn’t need to stitch them. Still, if the time ever came for that he’d be prepared and besides; needles weren’t the worst things you could get stuck in your skin. Nah. Fishing hooks were worse.

Salt smirked, looking down at the various scars on his forearms.

Much,  _ much _ worse.

Now with the wound covered he could finally settle on cleaning up the rest of himself; his hair was itchy and there was the feeling of sand and grime all over the place. Standing gently, he looked down to inspect his hands finding the undersides of his nails were dirty with sand as well as the light hairs on his hands and arms speckled with the little grains. He really wanted to take a shower but that wouldn’t be as easy with the wound on his chest.... Maybe he could just use a wet flannel?

He thinks this over on the way to the bathroom, his steps tentative on the floor as to not stand on anything sharp or dangerous; even with the light on he’s still cautious.

Luckily the bathroom is in a much better state than the main cabin with the floor being mostly clean except for a few small nicknacks and bottles having fallen from the shelves to which he easily places back into their right full spots. Bending down only sends little twitches of pain through his ribs; a marginal difference than earlier. It’s a little confusing though, his ribs were definitely bruised, so why didn’t they hurt as much as they should?

Perhaps his body had become numb to the feeling by now?

“Hm…” Placing the last bottle upon the shelf Salt drops the towel from his shoulders with a shiver and proceeds to open the shower. “Blasted sand…”

With a flick of his wrist the grains fall from his arms to the tiles below, next he goes for his chest, then his hair, feet… It’s everywhere! With a hiss he decides he’ll just have a shower instead and have to be careful about not getting the patches wet. After his remaining clothes are thrown to the side he gets down to business.

By the time Salt leaves the shower the weather outside has calmed down from a nasty, deadly storm to a more calm and collected blowing wind with the rain having picked back up into a light drizzle. Droplets hit lazily against the outside of the boat creating a calming pitter-patter noise from the inside only he can hear. The sound sets his mind at ease and blends perfectly with the light splashing of the sea waves creating quite the atmospheric ambience as he pulls some clean clothes from the closet.

Luckily none of his clothes had fallen from the closet unlike so many of his supplies that littered the floor, which was lucky because there was no way he’d be able to walk around nude in this weather, he’d freeze his ass off!

From the closet he’d pulled a thin, blonde coloured turtleneck, a new pair of sweatpants as well as some fresh underwear and a pair of thick socks. It was maximum comfort time. 

He took his time in slipping on the turtleneck as to not catch the fabric on the bandages but otherwise getting dressed was as painless as could be despite getting thrown into his boat numerous times in the last few hours. It really was a mystery on how quickly the once blinding pain had dissipated for he didn’t remember his pain threshold being so high, perhaps he’d been out for much longer than he’d realised, so over the time he’d been out his body had been recovering?

Salt shook his head and sat lightly on his bed, no no that wasn’t right, he couldn’t have been passed out for any longer than a few minutes because it was still dark out. It was definitely still early in the morning, judging from the darkness still present just beyond the glass behind him, so what other explanation was there for the lack of pain?

Slowly he twists onto the bed and picks up his feet to stretch them out over the covers.

Now that he was thinking about it, what had really happened back there in the water? It had all flown by so fast that in his panic he hadn’t really realised what was actually going on, now that he thought about it,  _ really thought about it _ , there was one big stand out thing that didn’t make any sense.

_ Something had helped him back to the surface and stopped him from drowning. _

The memories are hazy but he distinctly remembers the feeling of a hand on him; human in shape and touch but that had to be wrong because there weren’t any humans out this far other than him. He hadn’t seen any ships or boats or planes- absolutely no human contact whatsoever. So then why had the hand felt so indistinguishably human? 

Yawning, Salt lays his head down on the bed only to realise the pillow wasn’t there, with a hum he looks to the floor and blindly reaches down with his arm to search for the object, finding it after a few wild swings. The pillow is dragged up and flopped under his head unceremoniously as he continues to remember more about the storm.

Another thing he could remember was reaching behind himself in confusion and having his hand come into contact with something covered in what felt like fish scales. Which  _ obviously _ couldn’t be correct because in what world would a fish that large come help a human and  _ have _ a human hand? Definitely not this one! That was absurd! 

Perhaps he’d just imagined it during his panic?

Yes, yes that sounded the most plausible…

With the thoughts settled and his body growing heavy from exhaustion, Salt let his eyes drift closed; fully intent and ready to drift off to sleep...

Only for a sudden realisation to cross his mind.

_ The light he’d seen in the water during the storm had been the same light from the creature that had been stalking his boat the last few days. _

He frowns and snaps his eyes back open, completely awake once more.

“That can’t be right…” He mumbled to himself, flipping onto his right side to stare out the droplet covered window above. “I must be imagining things… maybe it’s all delerium, I am getting on in my years now...ugh.” 

Thoughts race quickly through his head as he stares blankly out the window, trying to find some kind of answer or solution to what it could be. With a sigh he squashes his face into the pillow and drags the old handmade blanket away from the wall to lay over him as the final idea flashes in his head.

“Perhaps...Just...Sea monsters?” 

The idea is absurd but it’s a lot better an answer than anything else he could think of so far. Salt would really rather this not be a ‘going insane with old age’ kind of thing. Maybe there  _ were _ things out there unbeknownst to his or even the world’s knowledge, he was quite far out from land currently and the possibility of undiscovered life forms in the sea wasn’t that unimaginable especially considering how deep and vast oceans were…

Alright then… so if he  _ was _ dealing with an undiscovered sea creature, should he try and document it? Write down everything that’s been going on alongside the little list he’d already started? Maybe even try and look at it face to face?

Perhaps.

But right now, at this very moment, it was time to sleep. Both his body and mind had been through a hell of a lot in the past few hours and whilst it hadn’t been anything he couldn’t handle it would benefit him a great deal to get some rest and wake up refreshed. Thoughts of weird sea monsters could haunt his thoughts when he wasn’t in the mood to pass out completely.

So until then, Salt forced his mind a blank and instead focussed on the surrounding noises from outside, on the pitter-patter of the raindrops on the hull, the crashing of the waves against the beachfront, the distant squawking of gulls adrift in the winds; it was all so peaceful; a strange calm settling over the island despite the previous dangers.

He mumbles one last thing into the pillow before sleep finally overtakes him.

“Another storm has passed…” 

…

But how many more storms would he have to face before it would be his last?


	9. Day Five: Just Five More Minutes...

Awaking the next morning feels strange, almost surreal, as he flickers open his eyes and finds himself still breathing. He honestly expected his body to magically give up on him overnight due to some unseen, internal damage done to his organs but nope, instead he feels fine. Achy and sluggish sure but otherwise alive and conscious. After he’s over the shock of not dying in his sleep, Salt pushes himself up into a seating position to lazily gaze out of the window, contemplating if he really wants to get up yet or not. 

From here the sky is clear with the sun bright and high above the clouds, gulls drift overhead on the breeze and it’s an otherwise beautiful and normal looking day in the middle of wherever the hell he’s washed up. Sniffing, Salt decides that, no, he doesn’t want to get up right now especially when his stomach wound begins twinging in protest at his movements.

With that he falls back to the pillow and bunches the blanket up near his head to block out the light.

“Five more minutes…” He grimaces.


	10. Day Five: Take It Slow.

The next time Salt awakens, it’s definitely been more than five minutes.

Rolling onto his back causes him to wince as it pulls at the wound, he hisses at the feeling of needles in his skin and fights the urge to slap it away. He’d only just woken up... again...the pain in his stomach was the main reason he’d gone back to sleep in the first place. The thought of trying to sleep even more crosses his mind but from how dark out it looks that would probably be a bad idea, besides, he’d need to change the bandages and eat something sooner or later...

Sighing, defeated, Salt slings his right arm under his neck to prop up his head and then throws away the covers with his left, squinting down to have any chance at checking if the wound had bled through his jumper in the night. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, he couldn’t tell from the position he was in and would have to get up to find out the truth.

Luckily; because despite the incident only happening about a day ago; he was already fed up with the ordeal and would rather not have to deal with the repercussions or see if he’d ruined another perfectly good turtle-neck and would rather stay in bed and forget about it all.

Unluckily; because if he  _ had _ bled through then that would mean he’d probably have to stitch the wound to make sure that wouldn’t happen again in the future which would  _ suck _ on his own  _ and _ because he’d have to get up and do that  _ anyway  _ lest he die of infection due to neglect and poor hygiene. 

So no matter what he’d have to get up and out of bed anyway...

“....Terrific…”

Not being used to sleeping in so late made him feel grumpy and half dead. He was definitely dehydrated and definitely needed something to eat but the only definite he could agree with right now was laying on his ass on the nice warm mattress with the nice warm comfort blanket and thinking about literally anything but his current predicament. 

He’d done that quite a lot when he was younger; slept the days away, not eating, not drinking; just sleeping.

It really wasn’t healthy.

With a long sigh, Salt forced himself up off the mattress and to his feet, the blankets from last night were still bunched together under his feet so he took care in twisting around until his hand came into contact with the light switch to return visibility to the room.

“Looks just as much a garbage dump as the day before…” He grumbles with a stretch. His leg involuntarily twitches at the pull of his stomach and he reminds himself to bend forward slightly as to not pull on the blasted wound.

Despite his grumblings, checking over the wound isn’t as much of a hassle as his brain made it out to be (as usual) and he recleans and bandages the wound with only a few minor cuss words like ‘Shit’ and ‘Fucking Piss Bitch’. Once the biggest threat in his mind is out of the way however, everything else comes easily to him.

Clothes are changed, snacks are grabbed and consumed, painkillers are taken-

“Sweet relief.”

Water is drunk, notes about the current events are jotted down-

But the floor stays a mess.

Salt argues with himself that if he were in any better-a-shape the cabin would have been rendered spotless in the hour, but with how temperamental the harpoon wound was being and with how he’s been questioning his own mental sanity, the cabin could wait just a little longer...

About another day... at least...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we're all caught up, this is as far as i'd written on my doc so any updates now will be new and will take time ;) Feel free to shout at me if you want more it rly helps.  
> I have plot point in mind but not an actual full ending.


End file.
